


Stories of the Forgotten

by SkullWitchNemain



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Other, War, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-19 06:25:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13698717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkullWitchNemain/pseuds/SkullWitchNemain
Summary: When a family feud turned into war and then into a political struggle, those with power are exiled greatly weakening the strength of the Shadow Paladins. The new queen of death made her choices based only on her suspicions and hence she has caused her own destruction. The exiles, hungry for revenge will have one chance to change the political and royalty based worlds. But is everything really the way it seems? Are the spies and traitors only sent by their enemy? Is the entire plan based on lies?





	1. Chapter 1

Part I - Amber

Chapter 1

_“For all our lives, we were merely playing a game. A gamble of life and death. Well played brother, you win. I took a gamble and I lost. Now I will pay the price. It seems that I will no longer be joining my sisters in the frontline. I sincerely hope that one day they will reach the happiness they deserve. Ember, take your sister and go, go to place where flames can burn and dance.” The masked witch of wolves spoke in a low but firm voice. She wore the face she always wore, in memory of her dear friend and sister who died much too young. Her black hair lay dead on her shoulders as she twirled her dagger in her left hand. As soon as she finished speaking, the witch held the dagger high in both hands with the tip pointing down and she stabbed herself where her lungs should be._

_Amber pulled her sister’s arm over her shoulders and grabbed her around the waist. “Shifu,” she cried, eyes widened, as her mentor’s body disappeared into dust and eventually air particles with only a shiny grey life stone floating where the witch’s lungs were meant to be. The life stone flew magically into Amber’s belt as if it was always meant to be there. A tear tugged at her eye as she leaped in to flight. Flying, not with wings, not on a broom like normal witches but by manipulating air particles and drifting into the portal which they had came through months earlier._

 

_Amber passed out as she hit the concrete floor of her mentor’s training hut in the Outer Ring, on the other side of the portal._

 

_Hours later, Amber woke to find the Witch of Puppet strings, Sylene, shaking her._

_“Yo, Ember, get up,” she said in her always firm and steady voice. When she saw that Amber was awake, she walked over to where Joy, Amber’s sister was lying. Sylene, more commonly known as Strings, had dark brown hair tied up in a tight bun and a pleasant face with a twinkle of wisdom in her tired grey eyes. She carried Joy gently to the bed in the next room with her brown dress with bell sleeves flowing around her._

 

_“Will she be alright?” Amber asked looking worried at her unconscious and pale looking sister._

_“We’ll find out when a medic gets here,” Strings replied, her aged face filled with worry._

_“Who’s coming?”_

_“The sect leader of the Vampire clan.”_

_“Vampire, is she good?”_

_“One of the best out here.”_

_“When is she coming?”_

_“When she is ready. You ask too many questions, go and get a pail of water from the well, will ya?” With that, Strings hands a wooden bucket to Amber and walks into the kitchen._

_Amber sighs and turns to walk towards the well in the front ward. Waiting, that’s what they also say. To wait for the right time even though it was always an uphill battle against time. She had joined the Shadows thirteen years ago when her sister was captured during a surprise attack aimed at her mentor, the masked witch of wolves, Susi._

_Names stopped mattering when she was given a new name and identity everywhere she went. Sometimes it was for training purposes but sometimes it was just nicknames that other witches decides would suit her._

_Everyone else had many names too. Her mentor Susi was also known as Lang-yao or Lang-Wu meaning werewolves or the witch of wolves. Sylene, also know as strings, Xuan-ou and Puppeteer. Amber, like them, had many names. Some normal sounding, some based on her skills and techniques and some for no apparent reason. Amber, Ember, Fire, Huo-yan, Yan-shi, Masked Flame, Flaming or even just the Flaming Masked Witch. Names were made and used like paper. Everyone had them, everyone used them and everyone wasted them. Depending on location, era and personal tastes, people’s names changed as they travelled from place to place._

_Everything changes, it was only a matter of time._

Joy looked down at her hands as the story concluded. “Why did you pick the shadows?” she asked her flame haired elder sister.

Amber tensed and didn’t reply. 

“Amber?”

“Yes,” as if snapping out of a dream, Amber sat up and looked around her, eyes searching for something that should be there but is not. “Its getting late, you should rest,” she said tucking her little sister back into bed and quietly leaving the room.

 

Yo-Ying, the vampire sect leader arrived in the late hours of the second night after Lang-Wu’s death. She waited at the gates patiently as Strings took her time getting out of bed. Some vampires can not enter private property without being invited as part of their curse or karma, but they are very patient creatures. However, the reason that she could not enter this particular property was not because of the curse as she did not have one on her but because of the barriers that Strings had set when they first arrived. Yo-Ying was, like vampires in general, incredibly pale. She had flying black hair, a bony face and her cheek bones stuck out in an elderly way. She was older, much older than Strings. 

“Amber?” Yo-Ying asked as she walked across the front yard. Her black cape sweeping behind her and her white hair, half pinned up by a hair stick, flying gently in the wind. She was a women of average height, barely taller than Strings. Her life in the shadows had made her bitter like many others before her.

“Asleep,” Strings replied.

“Condition?” Yo-Ying used minimal effort speaking to her peers and generally assumes that they understand what she was saying.

“Who? Amber? She has a few scratches.” Strings spoke with uncertainty. It was hard to always have to guess what some one was asking for. 

“No, Joy.”

“Oh, she’s fallen back into a coma and is pale from the lack of blood probably. She’s got a load of scars, old and new.”

“That won’t be a problem, go and get some sleep, I’ve got it covered here.” With that Yo-ying walked into Joy’s room and Strings turned without another word, intending to go right back to sleep. Strings was never one for too much excitement and Vampire was someone she chooses to spend minimal time with. 

Amber had woken to the creaking of doors when Yo-ying entered Joy’s room. She sat up like lightning and clicked her fingers summoning a bright yellow flame in her right hand. She felt around a bit in the dark reaching for the door cursing under her breath the lack of everyday technology in the Outer Ring of realms. She flung open the door and stumbled into the corridor. It took her a few seconds to regain her balance in which String had stepped out in front of her. 

The senior witch grabbed Amber tightly by her arm and whispered “Vampire needs to work in peace, lets talk outside.” Amber nodded not daring to speak up against Strings, she was too weak and yet to recover her strength fully. 

Amber lit a lantern and sat down as Strings poured her a cup of tea. Strings had a tired but calm and content expression. She was not worried about Joy. Amber waited until Strings had drank her cup of tea before bombarding her with questions.

“How is Joy? Is she alright? Are you sure Vampire is up to it? She’s not going to hurt Joy, will she?” Amber was worried sick. She was taught not to trust anyone she didn’t know and Vampire had some nasty rumours flowing around.

“Calm yourself,” said Strings pouring herself another cup of tea. “Vampire may by a vampire but she is quite humane. She will not drink blood if she could avoid it.”

Amber didn't look any calmer, she grasped the side of the table even tighter.

“Relax, she knows what she's doing,” Strings added in her mind, I think. She wasn’t close with Vampire and definitely would avoid going against the vampire Queen at all costs if she had the option. Vampire was someone who is feared and respected the she was in the Shadow Paladins and now one of the most important commanders of the Shadow Legion. “What do have planned after your sister is better?”

“I want to track down the ones who killed my mentor,” replied Amber.

“You want revenge.”

“Yes.”

“What about your sister?”

“About her, umm… would you mind taking her in for a few hundred years maybe?”

“I am not her baby sitter, find her a home with a nice family. Keep out of the royal bloodlines. It’ll keep her safe for a life time.”

Amber nodded.

“You’ll need a new mentor,” Strings went on.

“No, I don’t.”

“Then prove it by defeating me,” Strings had her mind set. She would not let this underaged girl out into the Nine-Rings on her own without much proper training. She got up and walked to the centre and most open area of the yard. Amber followed with uncertainty. 

Strings stood up straight with on hand bent behind her back and the other falling by her side. She was in a relaxed neutral position, Amber thought to herself, this would be easy. The Witch of Puppet Strings was not known for her ‘supreme’ battling ability. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say that she is amongst the weakest fighters in the Legion. However, what she lacks in a physical fight, she makes up for in her use of magic as a puppeteer and necromancer. She knows that art of puppeteering better than anyone else in the Outer Ring. 

Yo-Ying looked out from the kitchen window just as Amber and strings were preparing to fight. The girl’s too rash. She thought to herself, she won’t get anywhere in life if she doesn’t learn the difference of power. 

Amber thought of all the things that her mentor had taught her, the spells, the techniques and the combinations. She remembered the times that she lost to her mentor, getting closer to winning with every attempt. She began by walking slowly and suspiciously towards Strings as if waiting for a trap to spring. Eventually satisfied that Strings was not setting off traps, she lunged at the witch with her now clawed hands in front of her and sparks dancing around her. Strings dodged, ducked and stepped aside before turning around and swiping her hand across Ambers’ stomach. Amber barely sidestepped out of the way in time. From out beneath her nails, Strings released five silver silk like strings that attached themselves to the table they were sitting at before. As she drew her hand back faster than lightning, the table came flying at the unaware Amber. After crashing into the table, Amber quickly climbed back up and stepped into the air attempting to bring the battle to the skies. Strings threw out her hand again forcing the strings to detach and cutting across the air particles that Amber was manipulating and causing the young girl to fall face down onto the dry sandy yard. 

All this happened in the time frame of three seconds. Yo-Ying sighed, Amber was definitely not prepared for anything. Shadows are known for their ability to fight without being seen through training and extremely high speed attacks. Yo-Ying herself had been a known warrior and assassin. She had trained a lot of people who are now senior members of the legion. Speed was a very important factor of attack for shadows and Amber will be getting herself into a lot of trouble if she tried challenging anyone to a duel with the type of attack she has now. 

Strings walked over to where Amber was trying to stand. “You’re not ready,” she said. She turned and walked back into the cottage. The sun has yet to rise and Strings had every intention to go back to sleep.

Amber stood up on wobbly legs knowing that she had been defeated. One day, she thought, I’ll get there. She swore on her life that she would get revenge and so she will. She thought of the last words the Witch of wolves had said before she died, “go to place where flames can burn and dance”. Amber could only think of one place that fitted the description, that’s where she’ll begin, in Sliabh Teine of the Ring of Hell. One of the few places where it rains fire all day, month and year. Where fires can dance and and burn to its hearts desire. A place that has gained the title Living Hell. Somewhere even the gods would take a detour to avoid for it is a misplaced realm. Also because Morrigan the ninth has taken up the job of keeping it intact and no one really feels like crossing the most powerful death god in the history of Nine-Rings even if she is ‘faded’ (death for someone who is either a god or meant to be dead anyways) now.

Yo-ying looked out at Amber through the now shattered kitchen window. The girl has potential but lacks training and experience. She literally just ran into a duel head-on without knowing the extent of her opponents power. A foolish mistake that had cost many warriors their lives.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Amber spent the next few days resting in her room recovering from her battle with Strings. As she rested, she shifted through her thoughts trying hard to remember what her mentor had taught her. Yo-Ying had said that Joy was getting better and was capable of walking in another day or two. Strings had left for to run some errands for the Ring Master well before dawn and Amber did not expect to see the Witch of puppet strings again for a very long time. Twirling with her strawberry blonde hair Amber sighed.  There are so many things she wishes she could do but she knows all too well the extent of her powers.

Yo-Ying knocked on Amber’s bedroom door and waited patiently. With the right amount of training, Amber could become a very powerful ally.

“Come in,” Amber yelled. The door creaked open and Yo-Ying walked in with her long black robes drifting about her. “Is Joy alright?” she asked.

Yo-Ying shook her head and smile. “Joy is fine, I want to talk about you.”

“I’m not sick.”

“I know you're not.”

“Then what do we need to talk about?” Amber sat up on the side of her bed.  
“Your training.” Yo-Ying smiled. She leaned against the table analysing Amber’s reaction, very confused. “You have not finished your training yet,” she explained.

“I can train on my own.”

“You are not strong enough.”

“Then what are you suggesting, are you going to take me on?” Amber asked curiously.

“No, there is a sword master in the Blacksmiths Realm, Sir John Hawkwood,” said Yo-Ying, calmly. “13 Gistmore Avenue, Winsdale, Colian.” 

“Why would he take me on as an apprentice.” 

“Tell him, I recommended you. Its only the next realm over,” Yo-Ying stopped smiling. “Leave tomorrow morning, you’ll get there before midday.”

“But Joy.”

“She’ll live,” Yo-Ying walked out of the room as she spoke. It was a decision not up for discussion. 

Amber groaned and rolled over on her bed. Maybe she could see her sister again before Yo-Ying makes her leave in the morning. She made a phone call to the Legion’s information head quarters and asked for information on Sir John Hawkwood. The HQ sent through a fifty paged file on ‘basic’ information about John Hawkwood. 

 

_Sir John Hawkwood, Italian mercenary for hire. Well known swords master and blacksmith. Made his name as freelance mercenary with loyalty to none but himself. Incredibly skilled warrior who will fight for the man that pays the most._

_Originally hired help, Hawkwood joined the Paladins upon discovering its base by accident. He was trained by various warriors of different eras including Joan of Arc and continued his freelance. He was considered a defect after two thousand years of freelance work and was exiled to the outer realms. Now works as a blacksmith at 13th Gistmore Avenue, Winsdale town, country of Colian in the Blacksmiths realm. Knighted by Chronos, God of Time, Hawkwood specialises in speed and strength based magic._

_Hawkwood has one known apprentice, Callum Yorkshire. A third generation magic born vampire aged around three hundred, Yorkshire is a warrior in training with all magic based around super strength._

 

The sun has barely risen above the horizon when Amber walked onto Gistmore Avenue. The streets were made of stone bricks, clean but dusty. She was calm but nervous. She’s only ever had one mentor and definitely had no clue as to how to go about it. 

Hawkwood’s Blacksmith Stall was still locked with rusty iron locks. Callum woke to the sound of knocking on the door. He growled as he got out of bed. Hawkwood turned in his sleep and said, “let her wait in the forge.”

“Her?”

“Just do it.”

Callum changed into his work clothes rapidly and walk over to the door. It took him a minute to unlock the rusty locks that keeps the door close. He threw the lock and chain to one side and heaved the iron door open. 

He looked up in surprise, a girl? He thought. Then he remembered, “let HER wait in the forge”, his mentor had said. The blonde haired girl in black leather clothing stood awkwardly in the doorway. “Uh, follow me,” Callum stammered. He lead the girl into the dirty forge. “Master Hawkwood  asked for you to wait in here,” he said. 

The girl had sleek blonde hair pulled into a ponytail, emerald green eyes and olive skin. She smiled a little and said, “I’m Amber.”  
“I’m Callum.”

Amber looked around, Callum had messy light brown hair, dark brown eyes and pale skin with a cut over his left eye. He was wearing a stained white shirt and brown pants and shoes. The room was dim and stuffy. Unfinished weaponry and armoury hung on the wall. The furnace was closed with an old rusty iron door and dirty equipment lay scattered across the work table. 

“What are you?” Callum asked. He could tell she was not a simple human.

“A masked witch in training,” Amber replied. “You?”

“Minor vampire training to be a swords master.” Amber tensed slightly. She didn't trust vampires unless she had too. Yo-ying was no exception. At this point, Hawkwood walked in and cleared his throat. 

“Ahem, grab a pail and get some water from the well in the town centre,” he growled. “Also NO MAGIC, is that clear.”

“Yes sir,” Amber stammered surprised at Hawkwood's abrupt introduction. She grabbed the bucket that was on the ground and left the room. Once she was out of the stall, Callum turned to his mentor.

“Why is she here?” he asked.

“Because your LEGION MASTER specifically asked me to train her, half an hour ago,” still growling, Hawkwood grabbed a half finished sword from the wall and opened the furnace. “Get to work already,” he yelled angrily.

Callum sprang to his feet and started rearranging and polishing the tools. He then opened the giant screen that separates the forge from the front of the stall. Hawkwood’s Blacksmith Stall is now open for business. 

Groaning, Amber carried the relatively full bucket into the forge and set it on the ground. Callum grabbed it and poured it into the sink. He passed a clamp and a rusty sword to her and told her to smelt it and was greeted with a confused look. 

“Put it in the pot in the furnace until the iron turns red. Make sure you don’t drop the hilt in,” Hawkwood grumbled. 

The months that followed Amber’s sudden arrival involved lots of early mornings and routine chores. Every morning Callum wakes her up just after dawn. Then she would grab a pail of water from the well and leave it next to the sink. From then on was smelting iron all morning and then learning to reshape it in the afternoon. Breakfast, lunch and dinner, made by Callum ,were quite simple, a piece of bred with some soup. After lunch Amber would go into the town market and buy some more supplies, food included. 

What Amber didn’t think of is the days that turned to weeks, months and years. In the blink of an eye, a decade had passed. Master Hawkwood taught and trained Amber only after dusk and in the dark. It was his way of keeping magic a secret from the villages. The chores became a natural part of Amber’s very routine based life. In this life, she’d also made some friends, girls who grew up in the village. Outsiders became to know her as the blacksmith’s adopted daughter. Villagers trusted her. But they know much less then they think, only as much as the shadows allowed.

Her friends got married and moved away. People she knew began ageing and dying around her. Only certain people didn’t change visibly, Callum, Master Hawkwood and her. Amber knew why, it was because they are people who shouldn’t exist. They’re meant to have died a long time ago if fate and nature had its ways. 

However, as a dead amongst living, their very existence was a change of nature, a crack in fate or a blip in time. Going against fate has landed them with karma in the form of curses. 


End file.
